


Forevermore

by octoberinlondon



Series: The Time Series [2]
Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoberinlondon/pseuds/octoberinlondon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard vows to love them, now and forevermore.</p><p>Prequel to "This Time"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forevermore

Richard cannot sleep. How could he even? He is worried. Anne has already teased him, because his wrinkles seem to deepen by the day. She doesn’t understand. There was a time when the sound of her even breath next to him would have calmed him and lured him to sleep. Now, all he can think of is what will happen if he loses her.

_“I feel well, Richard. Very well, indeed. Don’t you worry about me.”_

He can’t help it. He thinks he has broken her heart, she thinks he has given her a new one. He has filled her womb again. She has lived in doubt ever since their boy Ned has died. Now she believes again. He watches her; she’s lying on her back because it’s the most comfortable position for her. _If only I could share your faith, my sweet Anne._

_“I am with child again, Richard. The Lord has given us a new chance.”_

Her words still echo in his ears. He has seen her stomach swell, has seen her blooming like a flower. Yet, he hasn’t been able to touch her. He knows she’s been telling herself that there is a different reason. Tudor and his invasion. Sometimes Richard wonders whether Tudor knew it would be a fruitless attempt, since he has a wife and soon a child to protect. It’s not only England. It’s Anne and it’s his child he wants to keep safe.

Tudor and his uncle are imprisoned in the Tower. He hasn’t decided about them yet, but he knows he will have to sign their death warrants sooner or later. It does not worry him. He thinks about the things Tudor would have done to Anne and his child, and he doesn’t worry about signing the warrants anymore. 

He’s been lying on his back the whole time, thinking about Anne, about his child. He’s been thinking about Ned’s birth, about the miscarriages, about their stillborn daughter. He secretly prays for another daughter. He’s held his dead child in his arms before he had to give her away. The beautiful girl he would have named after his mother, if she had lived, and ever since that day he’s been yearning for a daughter. 

He knows how desperately Anne yearns for another boy, a son to follow his father. _Forgive me, Anne…but I don’t know whether we should have another child after this. If this child even lives. You are all I need. If I lose you, there’ll be nothing that’s worth living for. Even if this child is a boy, I cannot be his father without you._

He turns around to lie on his side, ignoring the pain his back is causing. It’s become worse after he’s learnt that he’s about to be a father again; it’s become worse after Bosworth. He still finds pleasure in watching her, and he cannot deny how very proud her swollen stomach makes him. He knows about the gossip at court, and it’s a relief to have proven it wrong. 

_Either the King has lost his virility, or the Queen is barren and useless. I’d bet on the latter._

He would have loved to have this courtier beheaded. They have tried, heaven knows. Not immediately after Ned’s death of course. They’ve given each other time to grieve. They have given each other comfort. Until that very night she’s asked him to come to her chamber. He’s come to her chamber every night after that. 

The proof of it will be born soon. He hasn’t touched her stomach, hasn’t felt his child kick, even though Anne has assured him that these are vital kicks. The temptation is overwhelming. He reaches out and gently touches her stomach. It’s been a long time since he’s felt anything he could compare to what he feels now. 

A strong kick is greeting his hand. Anne doesn’t wake up from it. She has become used to it, to feel her child and its strength. 

“Hush child, don’t wake your mother. She deserves some gratitude from you.” He murmurs before placing a soft kiss on her stomach. Anne is still asleep and he feels grateful for it. His hand lingers on her stomach for a few seconds, and he feels that his child has calmed and isn’t kicking as hard as before. He smiles, withdrawing his hand. 

Suddenly he feels worried again. He knows it is utter nonsense, but he is afraid the child’s strength will kill its mother. He tries to get rid of that thought; he tries to revel in the kicks he felt, in the love for his wife. Anne will live. Anne will have more children. Anne will be his Queen, forevermore. 

He gets up, carefully, not wanting to wake up Anne. She needs the sleep. Walking over to the window, he thinks about his son. Edward. Ned. His precious boy. 

_Oh, Ned! You left too soon. You were so very young. A whole life was ahead of you…_

“Richard?” How could he even think she wouldn’t notice it? “Come back to bed. You will get a cold. Come to me, darling.” Her voice is like music to him. He slips back into bed, smiling. “Is your back bothering you again?” “No, don’t worry about it. I was just a little…” He doesn’t know how to phrase it, but Anne just nods. “Very well.” She murmurs and yawns. 

Richard gathers her close, kissing the top of her head. He is still careful not to touch her stomach, and Anne sighs. If only he could love the child as much as he loves her. 

Richard’s fingers tap on his desk with a tiresome frequency. Her labour pains have started this morning. She is giving birth to his child, his nerves are about to burst, his head is aching, and it feels like his back has never hurt so badly. He’s spent an hour in the chapel, praying for her…and for the child. He would even declare war on the Lord in case he would take Anne and their child away from him.

He starts to rub his temples in order to ease the pain, but he knows there’s only one thing that is actually able to do so. The knock at the door makes him jump. “Your Grace. The Queen has given you a child.” “What about her and the child? Are they well?” The messenger stares at him in astonishment. 

“I don’t know about that, Your Grace. They just sent me to tell you that the child is born.”

Richard grunts as he gets up. He cannot bring himself to run, as he did the last time. His footsteps are heavy. Heavy and determined. He wants to see Anne, wants to know whether she is fine, or not. He wants to see his child, wants to hold it and admire it, together with his Anne. 

One of the women in attendance wants to stop him from doing that. 

“Your Grace, this is women’s business, everything in this chamber should not be seen by a man’s eyes. If you wish we’ll take the baby to you, and…” She shakes her head, completely shocked by his behaviour, and even more by his interruption.

“I didn’t care about this ‘women’s business’ when my first child was born, why should I care about it now?” He asks and raises one of his dark eyebrows. He is the King, for heaven’s sake. It’s the first time he feels that his title is not a burden, but a relief. 

He enters the chamber, ready, and not ready for anything, at the same time. Anne looks beautiful. She’s holding their child, he cannot see much of it, but it seems to be bigger than Ned had been. He breathes in, deeply, to enjoy this moment, but the head midwife tries to interrupt his happiness. 

“It’s only a girl, Your Grace.”

Richard tells them to leave. If only they knew how much he wanted a daughter. As soon as they’re gone, he falls on his knees, thanking God for Anne’s well-being. 

As Richard slips into Anne’s bed, and is able to hold his daughter, his world has changed. 

They name their daughter Constance. A strong and constant name.

_Richard vows to love his wife and daughter, now and forevermore._


End file.
